Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. A tarnish of constraint that had recently spread over her intercourse with Capes vanished again. Been making herself at home all right. ‘There is little I can do at present. She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom.
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